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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/25704229">To Mend the Rift</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/kstant22/pseuds/kstant22'>kstant22</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Angst</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-08-04</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-08-04</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-05 08:53:38</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,007</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/25704229</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/kstant22/pseuds/kstant22</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Hermione Alesta Potter, how I wish you could avoid your destiny. But that's the thing about fate- it always comes to pass.</p><p>Hermione Potter enjoys all the things young witches do- well, besides needlepoint- and especially loves spending time with her brother and parents. Her biggest worries stem from her impending Hogwarts years and all the changes that will come with it.However, come her eleventh birthday, all of that seems like nothing compared to her new task. Her burden is heavy on one set of shoulders, but the rift must be mended, no matter the costs.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>James Potter/Lily Evans Potter, Remus Lupin/Nymphadora Tonks, Sirius Black/Hermione Granger</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>18</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>To Mend the Rift</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>This is very much a work still in progress. I originally intended to wait until l finished writing the whole story to post any chapters. However, my curiosity and excitement to see how this is received has won out. That being said, I cannot promise regular updates, or  updates in general any time soon. It could very well take me several years to complete writing this, let alone edit it. But I can promise that I will not abandon this story, no matter how long it takes me. So thank you for taking a chance on it, and I hope you enjoy. (All feedback is highly appreciated.)</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>        Saturday, March 26th, 1960, did not start off all that memorably. For a heavily-pregnant Euphemia Potter, it was like any other day, and that was turning her into a nervous wreck. It was supposed to be the happiest day of her life, closely followed by her wedding day. Today she was supposed to become a mother. And it wasn’t happening.</p><p><br/>
        Euphemia had spent all of Friday overseeing the two family house elves, Nols and Exie, in making sure the Potter Manor was absolutely spotless and spent hours perfecting all the rooms. The poor elves had been subjected to Euphemia’s indecisiveness and, in addition to dusting, steaming, and sweeping, they had to rearrange almost every piece of furniture- in the end only ten items remained in their newly assigned spots. The only area that had not been breached by the anxious mother-to-be was Fleamont’s study. His wife had complained that it was in an atrocious state, but he viewed it as an organized mess that was easily accessible. Papers and books strewn across his desk did not mean that it was difficult to find what he was looking for at all. He felt that being this organized in the midst of what looked to be chaos was finely tuned skill.</p><p><br/>
        After all of her obsessing over the house, Lady Potter was ready to end her pregnancy and begin motherhood. Three months back, the Potter couple was given the day of March 26th as the due date, and wizarding predictions were far more accurate than those of muggle doctors. So accurate, that they were hardly ever wrong. She spent that Saturday morning waiting for any sign of internal movement. Eventually Euphemia realized that the birth would probably occur at night and she berated herself for worrying so much when the day was hardly half over. But six hours later there was still nothing and her temperament was volatile. She refused to relax and was attempting to find any speck of dust that could be lingering in the corners of the house. Euphemia’s worried last-minute cleaning finally became too much for her husband. Fleamont urged her to relax and was able to coax her into a grand sitting chair in the parlor with the fire crackling and light bouncing off the walls. The room was extremely cozy, and Fleamont sat himself down on the sofa next to the armchair that was holding the love of his life. The warmth of the fire was quick to breach his senses, and he was shortly slumped against the armrest, snoring softly.</p><p><br/>
        Euphemia had finally calmed down around 11 o’clock, and was drifting to sleep when she felt a sharp jolt and an uncomfortable wetness. She was alert immediately and reacted instantly. “Monty! It’s happening,” she yelled to her husband who sat up groggily with bleary eyes as she shook his arm. “We need to get to Mungo’s! Oh thank Merlin,” Euphemia said as she was waddling her way over to the pot where the floo powder was stored. At this, Fleamont was fully awake and rushed to help his wife. With his wand in one hand and floo powder in the other he extinguished the flames and stepped into the fireplace alongside his wife. Throwing the powder down, he clearly spoke, “St. Mungos” and the excited pair disappeared from the manor.</p><p><br/>
        The moment they appeared from the floo, Fleamont called a healer over, with a hand on his wife to ensure she had regained her balance. The healer arrived with a wheelchair for Mrs. Potter that was charmed to follow her on its own accord. When they arrived at the room, Fleamont was forced to sit in the corner and fill out various pieces of paper while Euphemia was being attended to by the healer. Twenty minutes passed with little further development, but within the next several minutes Euphemia was being told to get ready to push, her husband at her side. She grabbed onto his hand, and the small room was filled with the grunts and screams of the woman, who desperately wanted to meet the soon-to-be newest additions to the Potter family. The air was hot and heavy, and Euphemia’s skin was covered in a thin layer of sweat when the first of two popped out into the world at exactly 12 o’clock am on Sunday March 27th, 1960.</p><p><br/>
        The small, crying boy was taken by a healer to be cleaned up and assessed. Meanwhile, the process was only one half of the way complete. A second miracle was working its way into the world. Her boy had cooperated for the most part, and was quite a quick birth. His sibling on the other hand, was a stubborn mule. Euphemia laid there for a good ten minutes pushing before a head was visible, and even then it was a struggle. A long five minutes later, the second wailing Potter child was introduced into the world; a beautiful baby girl. Just like her brother, she was taken by a healer to be fixed up and examined.</p><p><br/>
        Fleamont was looking at his wife adoringly, holding immense love for her in his heart that seemed to increase by ten-fold; something he had not thought possible. The healers handed her their firstborn, swaddled in a light blue blanket with white clouds moving lazily around the fabric. Euphemia took the child eagerly and appeared to glow with happiness as she held her son in her arms for the first time. Her daughter followed almost immediately, in a light pink blanket with sheep bounding across it, and she looked down at them with a watery smile, immense pride and love filling her eyes and heart. She felt a hand move to her shoulder and looked up to see her husband smiling down at her. He too looked as though he were about to cry wonderful tears of joy; he was a father to two gorgeous little wonders. Looking back at her children, she whispered, “Hello there, James Charlus Potter. And hello to you too, Hermione Alesta Potter.”</p>
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